“A shame, yes,” Wesley said. “Although I do believe my father prioritised feeding the kingdom over unnecessary luxuries these past few years. Given the border war, and all. Most would agree feeding the populace is more important.”
Petir looked unimpressed. “Mhm, the war. The one that House Seynard started? All because your father wanted to extend the reach of Caldaea into Ashen lands to set you up for a much larger reign than his own, I believe? If I am not mistaken?”
The tension was as thick as fog.
“The war we ended, as well. Yes.”
“Ended, surrendered. The two words are interchangeable to your family!”
Wesley’s face went red. “Perhaps if Ashen hadn’t choked our economy with trade tariffs-”
“Oh, please!” Petir shouted.
“Boys,” Jodie interjected. They went quiet, realising that others were staring at them. Jodie leaned in, “I think the cock-measuring contest is after dinner, so put them away.”
Ciana could not help but snort. It was not common for a highborn, let alone a future queen, to curse.
“It’s a wedding, not a duel. The war is over.”
“Speaking of duels,” Petir said, “why don’t we settle this tomorrow, like real men? You and I, Wesley. One-on-one combat at the tourney. It’ll be fun!”
The thought got Wesley’s heart pumping. He hadn’t been allowed to spar with anyone in years, and he’d never fought in a tournament before. Plus, it would give him a chance to humiliate Petir in a show of strength and ability in front of a huge crowd!
King Tobius stumbled over drunkenly. “Oh, no, no, no. My son will not be fighting tomorrow, or at any time. He is far too important for such frivolous things.”
Petir hid a smirk behind his hand.
“Father,” Wesley sighed, rolling his eyes. “Petir is challenging me to a duel, it would be rude of me not to accept. Cowardly, even.” In truth, he just wanted an excuse to kick Petir’s pompous arse into the dirt.
Tobius belched as he drank. “You are my only son, my heir. I will not have you participating in such risky activities. Let the knights play their games. That’s all they are good for, anyway.”
Tobius snorted at his own joke.
“Father, I really must insist-”
Tobius raised his voice in anger. “You will not backtalk me, boy. The answer is no. Princes do not fight in tourneys.”
There was nothing more Wesley could say, he knew. His father’s word was final.
Jodie tugged on Petir’s sleeve. “Come, let’s eat.”
Wesley, still red-faced over his father’s outburst, stopped Jodie in her tracks. He needed to say something, anything, to her. “My lady… I just wanted to say that… you look stunning.”
He could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Jodie smiled back without a word. He took her hand from across the table and kissed it. Jodie held his hand for a moment, and Wesley felt her slip a piece of what felt like paper into his closed fist, out of sight of everyone else.
His eyes grew wide with excitement.
“We have two seats waiting for you at our table, if you are hungry,” Wesley said, pointing to his side where the rest of the Blacktree family were seated and dining. He slid the paper into his pocket.
Petir and Jodie made their way over to their seats as Tobius teetered around the hall, greeting guests, and making questionable comments. The band played on.
“I’m sorry about my father,” Wesley said.
“It’s alright, my prince,” Ciana said.
“He’s a stubborn man.”
“Most kings are, I think.”
“And… I just wanted to apologise for before, my lady,” Wesley spoke into Ciana’s ear. “I must have had a bit too much to drink, I think.”
“No apology needed. You are a prince, and it is your wedding night. You are allowed to drink.” Her lips quivered as she spoke. She had been trained well to appease a husband; Wesley could tell.
The celebrations went on. Dancers in white and yellow gowns performed a traditional dance as the crowd clapped to the beat of the instruments. They wore crescent masks of white, covering their powdered faces.
Wesley observed his father, drink in hand, staggering towards Emery and Petir as they sat at their seats.
Drunk again. His father had a bad reputation for being loud-mouthed and a heavy drinker, on top the other rumours talked about him and his treatment of women.
Wesley decided he would step in to avoid any further humiliation with his new extended family. He did not want things getting any worse.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I’m going to attempt to save your father and brother from my father.”
Ciana smiled back. “Good luck.”
The music was playing louder as the crowd danced and drank. The band played lutes and flutes while stomping on the stage to help amplify the beat.
Wesley strode over to the conversation, placing an arm around his father’s broad shoulders. He could smell the ale on his breath.
“Aye, aye, it’s a time of great strife in Alyria. Strange reports from across the kingdoms, the death of Queen Mira Bower. A red star in the sky! And now an invasion from the Akurai Empire!” Tobius babbled on.
King Emery is the most powerful man on the continent, and here my father is making drunken small talk with him! Wesley did not know whether to be embarrassed or impressed.
King Emery Blacktree was well-mannered and despite his new ally’s clear intoxication, continued with the discussion in a civil manner. “Indeed, it is quite worrying to hear of such adversities.” The man stood tall at six-foot, had a short, neat beard, and a strong, square jaw. “Nonetheless, we shall prevail through whatever hardships our kingdoms may face in the future.”
“Nothing like a good wedding to inspire peace in the land,” Petir said.
“We will make
